apocalypsehowcomm | Event - Appalachia: Into the Pines

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Event - Appalachia: Into the Pines

Appalachia: Into the Pines

Footage plays on the television as a new story comes on, showing a series of sweeping vistas, intercut with clips of wolves that have clearly been filmed at some local wildlife sanctuary. "As far as anyone knows it, the last wolf to ever freely roam the Allegheny Mountains was slain in West Virginia in 1897. Daniel Stoffer Hamrick saw to the beast's passing, and the woods in our part of the world have gone quieter ever since. Appalachia does not forget its history, though. It buries it beneath coal and flyash, debts and white powder and pills. And the blood of people taken before their time, by the mines, by the mountain, by things we don't have names for, just hurt. But Appalachia does not forget.

"This is Cindy Parsons with Channel 5, Wolf News." Footage cuts to a newscaster standing outside a gated apartment complex with FYRE's logo emblazoned on it. "As we know, our beloved Wolf Pen is home to one of the biggest FYRE worker housing complexes in Wyoming County. It is a monument to the history of our town, and this week, we'll be on the lookout for visitors from all over the country, coming to see the grand re-opening of the historic Bluestone Mine as a museum."

Footage cuts to a nondescript businessman, identified by the news footage as Carl Watts, CEO of FYRE. He's smiling blandly as he stands at a podium and gestures to the entrance of the mining tunnel behind him. "The Wolf Pen community has been a partner to us for decades now, and we knew it was finally time to give something back to all y’all. We'll have our soft opening on Monday with a full Rumble Down Under party in the old mines scheduled for June 15th. We'll have a live bluegrass concert and anticipate a huge influx of tourists to the area to help out our neighbors itching for a few more pocketbooks to tend to." A wink.

The footage returns to Cindy. "FYRE has stated that this new museum will provide an educational tool and tourist attraction for those wanting to learn about West Virginia, Wolf Pen, and the hard-working men and women who have made this beautiful part of our nation their home. Time will tell. Time is always telling when it comes to the promises of people who have used our land and our bodies to line their pocketbooks. They fill our blood and our lungs with black tar and-"

Cindy cuts out and is replaced by in-studio anchors. "Thank you, Cindy!" a blonde woman says, smile just a little strained. "I think we're all looking forward to seeing the big opening by FYRE on Sunday and that rocking good party next month. It should be a gneiss one! Now to Tim with the weather. Tim?"

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Plessy's Holler sounds like a helpful direction for more than one of the tales Jaeger's heard in town, so he makes sure to put it on his list for investigating, over the course of his stay in Wolf Pen.

Still dressed down in his jeans and turtleneck, Jaeger's a little too old to pass as a college student, so he simply downplays his size and stern demeanor in favor of something interested, curious, and maybe the slightest bit hapless. His camera is tucked into a small bag hanging at his side, along with a few other small necessities that don't fit in his pockets (It's not a man purse, except it's totally a man purse.) He approaches on foot from a bit of distance, perking to the sound of a dog in the distance, and slows his pace as the place comes into sight.

He's not here to mess with anyone or their stuff. Just to ask a few questions, though it might take a little reassurance...if anyone is even actually here.

There is, indeed, someone here. An older woman who gives him a long and suspicious look from the lawnchair she has set up near one of the tents. "Leave him be, Henry." She clicks her fingers and the dog huffs before wandering over to her.

"Something I can do for you, stranger? Better walking trails back a ways."

Jaeger pauses a polite distance from the woman, approaching only close enough to be heard without yelling. The dog gets a quick, cautious glance, before he turns his attention back to her.

"Actually, I was hoping to talk to someone around here," he offers, a brief smile passing over his features as he shifts himself into his most personable demeanor. He's had to deal with plenty of civilians in his professional career: he's not bad at it, if just because he's fairly good at conveying genuine sincerity. In another world, in another life? He might have made a good college professor.

"I'm interested in some of the local stories and folklore around here. I know the mines are getting plenty of attention right now, but I'm looking into some of the other legends in the area, and was hoping that I could hear something direct from the people who live and work here."

The locals always tell the best stories.

"Mmhmm..." She doesn't bristle, but she's not looking especially relaxed, either. She just stays where she is and scritches the dog's ears when he sits next to her, panting. "You wanna tell me why you're looking for that, I might be willing to share. Ain't interested in being some journalist's 'human interest story.'"

"That's fair." He gives her a solemn nod. "I'm not looking to cause trouble for anyone. My angle is mostly personal, I've been interested in folklore and history since a few experiences in college. Someday, there might be a book in me, but right now it's just my own curiosity."

He gazes off toward the woods for a moment, then back at the woman with a slight, crooked smile.

"Plus, if I'm going to be doing any hiking, it's good to be aware of the area and anything that's important to know."

She gives him another long look before sighing and gesturing to a log that's nearby the campfire ring where her lawn chair is located. "You'd be better talking to Ron in town, if you want ghost stories. He's been wild about that stuff since he was a kid. Pretty sure he thinks ghosts is real." A small shake of her head.

"Name's Robin. You are?"

"Ron? I'll make a note of that, when I get back into town I'll definitely have to look for him." He gives a resolute nod, making the mental note, before his demeanor relaxes again.

Studied and disciplined, perhaps, but not aggressively so. If she'd turned him away, he would have left, politely and without confrontation.

"Andrew. Pleased to meet you." He doesn't think she's the type for handshakes, but he accepts the offered seat carefully, folding himself down to settle near the fire. It's nice, and for a moment he just soaks up the warmth, letting it linger in his bones the way only a fire can.

Then he looks at her again, his smile almost apologetic for the moment he's taken. It feels strange to be letting his guard down, no matter how little.

"So are there a lot of ghost stories around here, then? I've picked up a few, coming into town, but only bits and pieces. And the newspaper office doesn't really cover what people actually talk about."

"Sure. Every town around here's got theirs. These parts, in particular, we got what's in the woods and what's down in the mines. You got a specific interest in one or the other, Andrew? Long way to walk up here just to settle in for a jaw."

"I have to admit I'm curious about the woods, and not just for the hiking. The mines are getting a lot of attention right now, so I might wander a bit more off the beaten path." He gestures expansively, that he's not as far out of his way as he might be.

He cocks his head, thinking for a moment before he offers, "I've heard there might be a bit of overlap, though. There are a couple of different stories about what happened to the original family here?"

"The Plessys?" She huffs something like a laugh. "That what you're chasing out here? Sorry to disappoint you, but there wasn't no massacre. I was just a kid when it happened, but far as most of us knew it, Albert Plessy stopped paying taxes. Got arrested for it, and the rest of the clan scarpered 'stead of trying to figure out how to pay on his behalf. We had animal attacks up here, sure. But it wasn't nothing to do with the Plessys. And that's why we got Henry here."

The dog perks up and wags his tail. He spooks most of the spooks back into the woods at night.

Jaeger doesn't look particularly crestfallen, just listens with a small nod to indicate that she has his full attention.

The comment about Henry being on guard gets a small smile from him, a glance at the mutt. He's fully aware of the idea of animals being able to detect things that humans can't or won't, and it seems like a comforting measure to have. Whether it be wild animals, or more ethereal sorts of things.

"That makes sense. I heard both the massacre story, and the mine collapse story. But I know how stories grow with the telling. One little unknown, and people come up with some very interesting ways to explain it." He glances back toward the woods idly, speculatively, before returning his attention to the fire again.

"Are animal attacks in the woods common? I know there's some legends about that too."

"More common than they should be, seems like. It's got bad the past few years, mostly. Not sure what's got the beasts riled up, but they're coming closer and closer into town. Mostly it's the night, though." She sighs. "Used to be you could go walking in the woods late, just looking up at the stars, and it'd be safe.

"Good old days. Back before the assholes at the mine started dumping their shit out here in the crick. They're worse than any animals. At least with them, you know they ain't got the faculties for a conscience."

Jaeger winces sympathetically, because that is a detail that he hadn't quite expected, and...may or may not explain some things.

Certainly, it's worth noting, filing away in his careful memory to be written down later.

"I wish I could say that was a surprise, but it's not, unfortunately. The mine seems to hold a lot of power here, and they...don't seem particularly inclined toward charity and thought." It's a delicate way of putting it, but she's already said as much in starker terms, so he feels comfortable enough there.

"And I'll keep that in mind about the woods. I am planning to do some hiking, it was one of the things that got my attention here, but I want to be safe."

Robin huffs quietly to herself. "Maybe shouldn't say it like that. The dumping's recent. Most of they time they do what they're supposed to. Can't say I like the tailing ponds up around Keppler, but they're there for a reason. They hoofed it all out here farther than they usually do just to... hide it? I don't know.

"My little grandson, he thinks rock and shadow monsters are bringing things over from the mine along with some lady. Kid's got a wild imagination."

Jaeger can't keep the faintest sadness from his smile at the mention of her grandson. He knows a little too well what kind of stories kids can tell, and it stings to be reminded.

But that was a long time ago, and literally a world away. So he brings his mind back to the moment.

"Children often do. I hope it doesn't distress him too much, to be thinking about things like that. They move on to the next idea pretty quickly, at least."

He gazes into the fire for a few seconds, thinking about the whole thing before framing his next question.

"Are there any other spots of interest that you might recommend, while I've got my hiking gear with me? I know about the overlook, that it's good for birdwatching." A quick flash of smile. "And where the creek is, so I can be extra careful. It doesn't sound like a very safe place to be exploring."

"The crick runs all the way down to Silver Lake. You been passing by it on your way up here. Just use the crossing they got down on the main road when you're going back into town, you'll be fine." She glances off to one side where there are tall reeds and the hum of mosquitoes. "Thing starts further up the mountain, but you can see where they dumped their shit through them reeds.

"Can't really show you personally. Hurt my leg chasing the baby down to make sure he didn't get in the water, but you push through, you'll find it all easy enough. For better places to visit? There's another holler down the road from here. Camden Drive. We used to call it Lover's Lane. It's where everyone'd take their sweeties. Big ol' pine back there we carved our initials into. You'll see just about everyone in town's name or initials or sign on there. Good memories back that way."

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Event - Appalachia: Into the Pines

In Town 4: Plessy's Hollar (Prompt 2 of 2)

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