Log - Restoring Bonnie's Flophouse: Part 2 - Open

[graveyounglady]

Who: Mercy Graves & OTA
When: Throughout September, October, and November when things aren't going horribly wrong
Where: Bonnie's Flophouse
Summary: The completion log for working on repairs to Bonnie's Flophouse that is part of a Player Plot. At the conclusion, the Flophouse will be a nicer residence to stay in than it currently is! For September and October, the focus is on fixing the wiring/improving the electrics, and interior repairs/improvements.
Warnings: Please just put them in subject lines if they come up!

🦊WIRED🪦

The Flophouse's electricity situation is a tenuous one. While the building repairs thus far have sorted out the damage being done every time it rains, this is still an old New England building with esoteric wiring that seems primed to start fires, rather than prevent them. A full rework would really be for the best, especially with the hope that they can tie in a refurbished generator or two to make sure the lights stay on here, even if there's some sort of city-wide blackout. At least of the mundane variety.

There's plenty of new-ish copper wiring and energy-efficient outlets to install. A lot of these seem to have been gathered from somewhere, but maybe it's best not to ask about the specifics. The materials are available! Hurrah! Amateurs may find themselves being zapped as they work or more significantly injured if they're not careful enough. Current residents of the Flophouse may find their power going out at odd hours and without warning, as well, as people make mistakes or breaker switches are flipped to try to figure out what the unlabeled ones are actually connected to. Maybe it's a good time to complain to the... non-existent manager around here.

🦊WHAT FABULOUS WINDOW TREATMENTS🪦

The final touches on the Flophouse are attended to once plumbing and wiring are fixed and walls are back in place. There are doors and cabinets that don't close properly because they were set incorrectly. There are rotted floorboards that really need to be replaced. There are walls to paint and appliances to tool around with to make them just that little bit better. And there are all manner of decorative things to attend to for those who like to make a home, well... homey! Bonnie has her bohemian style, but she's willing to allow some changes in the name of upgrades.

Just be careful your work isn't 'fixed' by someone else who doesn't like your tastes. Or work it out in a sensible manner: duel to first blood in the side alley?

🦊IN MEMORIUM🪦

Perhaps it's a morbid thing to have a room dedicated to the missing and the lost, but with Garner's death and so many other disappearances, it seems important to Mercy that there should be something there. The Flophouse is restored as much as a large group effort can manage. There are smaller things that will always need tending to in a building this old, even with the refurbishment, but there are more rooms than there are people living here at the moment, so she doesn't think it will be wasted space, at least.

In Room 1 on the first floor of Bonnie's Flophouse, a memorial has been created. The room is painted a simple, soft blue and the name of each missing or dead person from another world is painted in blocky brown letters from the ceiling down to the base board. The current list takes up nearly one wall, but there's plenty of room for other names. In the center of the wall, there are a few lines:

Those spoken of and to are never dead
Simply past us on the road ahead

On either wall next to the one with the names, there are narrow tables kept stocked with cheap tealights. There are more within one of the table drawers. There's also vases that can be filled with a small bunch of flowers. There aren't any chairs, but there are some mismatched floor pillows in a basket near the door. This is a place for contemplation and sharing stories of those found in this place and passed on to elsewhere.

🦊WILDCARD🪦

Is your character pursuing a more solo-project or something that's not electric repairs/improvements or interior work? Maybe they're on the hunt for materials... or a way to make extra cash for the job. Maybe they're bringing in ill-got goods to work with. Whatever it might be, have at it!

Comments

Mercy Graves | OC | OTA

[graveyounglady]

WIRED
"Oh, that ain't right..." Mercy pulls a face as the lights around her flicker. There's an electric popping sound, and everything goes dark. Her rubber gloves have saved her from something worse, but the first attempt at replacing a socket on her own hasn't gone over as well as she'd hoped. Her hands were made for working with bodies and wood, not wires and bottled lightning.

She spots someone looking in on the hallway where she's knelt. "Sorry! Sorry, I'll fix it! Just gotta... um. You got a torch handy, maybe?"

WHAT FABULOUS WINDOW TREATMENTS
"What do you think about orange for this room? We got a lot of extra orange paint to use up." Mercy has no idea who purchased the excess of bright orange paint, but here it is, available for use. And there's no sense in letting it go to waste while they go out and buy a different color. "Orange is... happy! It'll be the happiest room in the Flophouse. Even when everything else is going wrong. Right?"

IN MEMORIUM
Mercy knows she's spending more time in here than she should. Thinking kindly on the dead is to be encouraged among her people. Remembering them and speaking of them. But this dwelling... it sits in her chest like a weight, recalling memories of another time when she'd felt lost and adrift, when so many of her connections had been severed, leaving her with just her family and their god. A god she doesn't know how to feel about anymore.

She's kneeling on one of the pillows in the room, hands working at sewing some finer details into a skirt as she thinks and speaks softly. "We finished with the Flophouse, Garner. I know you couldn't see it, but I-I think you would've liked the feel to it. The floors don't creak or sag so much, and we smoothed out a lot of the rough edges. Not all of them, mind you. Every home needs a little bit of character that way. I told them about you wanting to be cremated for your people's ways. You probably already know that, though. I hope you're with the Dawnfather now. I been trying to do a little prayer for you to him in the mornings. Wish I'd... I wish I'd ask more about him. About everything about you. Ava's dead, too. That's something. Small favors. You did good helping defeat her. A real hero's send off."

[canofmanji]

"Orange is happy?" He's not exactly disbelieving it, but he is questioning it. "I thought... I dunno, yellow was suppose to be a happy colour." Manji stands ready to paint. He had been serious about his offer to help in exchange for clothing and painting seemed like something he could help with while having just one arm.

[graveyounglady]

"Well, they're just a hair off from one another, ain't they?" She's not sure how much she trusts this man after their one disastrous argument, but Mercy is nothing if not willing to make amends. And he's helping out with her project. That's worth making an effort at being friendly for. It's also just easier than staying mad forever. Grudges aren't her strong suit.

"You wanna start on that wall? I'll take this one." She's already laid out tarps and put up the painters tape to protect things. "Lots of flowers is orange and... oranges and carrots! Good stuff that comes from the ground you can use to juggle or build snowmen."

[canofmanji]

"I suppose that's true." He wasn't about to argue about colour theory when he knows he's no expert on it. Plus, she did have a good point.

With a nod of his head he heads to the wall she indicated. Picking up a brush and dipping it into the paint. "Juggle?" He chuckles as he begins to paint the wall. "That's what you go to first when you think of oranges? Not juice? So, can you juggle?"

[graveyounglady]

"Why not both?" Mercy takes her own side of the room. "When I was back home, the Abbey guards'd put on a show every year during the summer season changing festival. They'd juggle fruits and slice 'em up, pile 'em into a big old fruit salad they'd hand out to the little ones who were watching them."

And her heart aches at the thought of that. No more season changing festivals at home for her. Even if she does go back, she's not sure what the Spring Tide and their traditions are. That had been the way of it in Evergreen. Would their temple have something similar?

In Memoriam

[bloodalwaystells]

Jaeger has been drifting at the edges of things since the end of October, since the fight with Ava.

He's nursing wounds, some physical and some not. Though the bruises on his face have started to fade into ugly yellow-gray mottling, and he doesn't hold himself with quite the same painful care that he did at the start of the month. His arm is no longer in a sling, there are no more bandages. There is a deeper solemnity to him, though, a weariness in his blue-gray eyes and in the way he stands. Quieter than usual, more reclusive than he's been before.

But he's starting to come back to life, in small ways. Still hurt and still mourning, but he's present again in a way that he wasn't the first couple of weeks of the month. A little bit of painting, a little bit of amateur carpentry, or even just tasks as simple as bringing food and drinks to those doing the heavier work. Gestures, really, but things that take his mind off pain and loss and focus it on what can be done. What can be made better.

Right now, though, he's a still, silent, and huge presence lingering at the doorway of the shrine. Debating whether he wants to disturb Mercy's vigil, but eventually, finally, he finds some words in a voice just a little rougher and raspier than it was before.

"I think he would be very pleased with the work you've done here."

[graveyounglady]

Mercy wipes quickly at her eyes before looking around toward Jaeger. She offers him a sad smile. "It was all of us working together, Mr. Jaeger. You come to pay your respects, too? Lotta names on this wall. More'n Garner's. At least... at least we know what happened to him?"

That's something, small as it is. He's no mystery. She knows where Garner Cinderbooke is.

[bloodalwaystells]

For a moment, he feels a little uncertain, but after a second he nods. He's not really adept at public displays of any emotion, never mind something as raw as grief. He's not sure he's ready to be that vulnerable, but on the other hand, Mercy has seen him pretty damn naked, emotionally. In his sleep-addled stupor, chasing phantoms through the halls of ADI, and she had proven herself...good. Gentle. If he was going to open up to anyone, it would be her.

"I wanted to see how things were going, and...yes. My respects, too." He casts around the room with steely eyes, softened by the past month's wear and fatigue.

He should light a candle, at the very least. He can do that. That means something, no matter how small. A little light to guide his friend. It's a comforting thought for a man who's not sure what he believes in.

"Too many names. I try to believe the best, but it's hard, not knowing for sure." He breathes out slowly, ignoring the lingering twinge in his ribs, the ache along his back and the arm he injured in the fall. "I do think that Garner went the way he would have chosen. Doing something important, protecting people."

Including Jaeger himself.

"As far as deaths go, I think that's something to be respected. Something that matters, and I'm glad he had that."

in memorium

[lesbeau]

It shouldn't be a surprise to Beau how many people knew Garner. They're not a big bunch, even among the already kinda small ADI, and it's hard to not at least know of just about all of them. But the last time she dealt with death like this, it was so personal. So few people even knew Mollymauk, and even less understood him. But now it seems like everyone knew Garner, had their own stories, and it's... strange. It's not bad, shouldn't be bad, but it feels like she's now closely connected to a large amount of people she doesn't even know. Sure, Beau is better about that sort of thing now than she was, but it's... odd. The whole thing feels odd.

"So you're talking to him?" She's been standing quietly in the doorway for a while now, observing Mercy, sort-of-kind-of meditating but not quite there. "Are you... supposed to do that, or something?"

[graveyounglady]

Mercy looks around at the familiar voice, quickly wiping at tears. "Sorry?" It's Beau, the handsome woman who's been helping out. Her usually chipper demeanor is heavily muted. "Oh, um... well, we do. My people. The dead ain't walking with us no more, but they're still here. Best way to keep 'em with you is talking to 'em. Dunno if he'll hear it all, but I gotta hope Pelor's looking kind today and sending the message along."

She motions Beau in. "You wanna sit and say something?"

[lesbeau]

She's quiet as she takes a few steps in, as if finally invited, and makes her way slowly to Mercy's side. Her sitting is practiced, a cross of the legs and a gentle lowering that looks like a dancer. It's a grace she doesn't usually express outside of combat, but it does make her much quieter, much more unassuming.

"I dunno much about Pelor. Most gods where we were from aren't... super responsive." Unless you're Caduceus. Or Jester, but that's it's own whole thing she isn't gonna split hairs on. "I've talked to the dead before, though. They didn't remember, I think. It was complicated. Doubt it would help him, anyway."

Katrina | Siren | ota

[twicelost]

• in memorium

She is, in a word, devastated.

Katrina stands before the wall, wearinc one of Garner's pendants, a conch shell in her hands. By now she is past wailing; her people grieve openly, weep and cry out and allow the horrible pain to flow out from them as violently as it filled them. Now, she is ready to honor him how she would honor one of her own.

Kneeling, she places the conch shell by a vase with flowers in it, settles her hands on her thighs, and begins to sing.

It's a wordless melody that feels like a mourning poem, matching the tone of the rhyming lines inscribed on the wall. Katrina's voice is steady and calm. It lacks the power it would have at home, but it might still be enough to make someone's heart ache, or comfort them because Garner's spirit had passed on.

It's not a very long song. Once it's over, she stays for a few minutes, remembering, sadness rising again like a slow tide.


• wildcard

As usual, Katrina is glad to do some heavy lifting if anyone needs it. She figures she owes it to everyone who's been working on it, since she came to make use of the memorial room.

in memorium

[canofmanji]

Manji had heard there was a room dedicated to the lost and he wanted to see it. Not really wanting to see Garner's name there, but feeling like he needs to see it. Coming to a stop when he hears the humming just inside the door. Not wishing to interrupt, he plans to stand quietly and listen until she is done.

[twicelost]

She doesn't startle when she stands and sees Manji at the door. In fact, she thinks she understands.

"You came to honor our friend."

It still hurts to know that he won't be there at the training hall, reliable and strong.

[canofmanji]

"I suppose I did." He sees no reason to deny it. He reaches out and touches Garner's name. "I should have been there." Maybe there was something he could have done if only he had been there.

in memorium

[friendsfordinner]

Hickey's been hanging out on the edges of the ceremony. He feels that he should be here, considering that he helped a bit with the building. But this...this sort of grieving, it's not him. If someone dies you push it down, you give them a little nod, you continue. There's no time for dwelling in your feelings. Not here, not ever.

"Nice song, I guess," he shrugs, once Katrina's done singing. He reaches into his pockets and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, intending to light one and start smoking right in the middle of the memorial room.

Re: in memorium

[twicelost]

She's been among humans long enough that she can assume he doesn't mean any offense, and that he isn't putting down her customs. And as she stands and sees he is going to smoke, she doesn't feel the urge to snap at him. Humans have their own myriad ways of dealing with death. This is simply one of them, one Katrina hasn't seen before.

"It is a song for those who die. We sing because they go to spirit world. We feel sad, but we know they continue as spirit."

She wishes Eliza were here, or Helen, or even Beth. They know more details about the subject.

"You come here to light a candle?"

Re: in memorium

[friendsfordinner]

It's less of smoking to deal with grief and more of smoking so that he'll have something to do with his hands. But Hickey'll keep that to himself for the moment. At her question, he gives a little shrug.

"S'pose so. There aren't many people here on that list that I know." There is one, though. And his eyes keep getting drawn to that name. Hunter.

"Still. It's probably the proper thing to do."

Raine Whispers | The Owl House | OTA

[rainewhispers]

IN MEMORIUM
It was a nice touch. A place to honour those missing, or deceased. It hit something of a soft, sore spot with Raine. In the time they'd spent around Bonnie's this past short while, making their inquiries about living arrangements and lending a hand or two to the repairs they had always kind of came back to the room now and then.

It's here we find Raine sat on one of the pillows on the floor in a corner by one of the candlelit tables. They knelt over a sizable piece of tea-stained paper they were intently sketching on using coloured pencils with intense and somewhat somber interest. It looked to be a stylized skeleton that had trees and life growing throughout it. They were caught up in their own little world there but slowly their hand stilled.. Taking a deep breath and moving a hand up to rub their eyes by the bridge of their nose.

WILDCARD
Raine wasn’t one for really redecorating, or more of the maintenance kind of handy work, at least not using their hands. The lack of magic really didn’t make them feel too useful. So instead sat down, outside near the open windows undergoing repair, Raine was attempting some form of bardic inspiration so to speak. An old banjo in hand that they’d refurbished, taken from the local antiques store.

The music was calm but not dreary and with enough of a lifting lilt to it that Raine figured the sound would be easy to work with. Not the usual frantic quick pace you may expect for the instrument but beautiful all the same. Played by someone who knew this was what they were meant to do from a tender young age and had honed it over years and years.

They kept their eyes shut as they played for some time. Letting their fingers fall naturally and expertly along the strings without needing to see where they had to strum. Steadily their eyes opened as the music trailed onwards, looking up to an approaching figure that caught their eyes.

wildcard w the bards baybee

[ruevealing]

Rue still wasn't too willing to subject themselves to their ADI-mandated glamour unless necessary, but there was just too much going on outside of the headquarters, so much life to experience, so many new people to meet. And after a millennia spent in travel with a constant murmur of social pleasantries around them, staying trapped inside all day was beginning to make them feel quite claustrophobic and aimless. So even if home repair wasn't necessarily in their wheelhouse, they honestly just needed to do something.

The redecoration called to Rue - a lifetime of event planning and a sense for fashion gave them enough of a creative eye to apply those skills to composing a beautiful layout - but before they could get claws deep into anything, the tender music from outside caught their attention. They followed the sound to where Raine was seated while playing, their own movements graceful and careful, the sunlight making their elven sharpness appear striking.

They don't speak as they approach - that would be quite rude, wouldn't it? - but there was just no stopping the soft, melodic hum at their throat as Rue came to stand a few feet from Raine, their back to the building, letting their own eyes close as the music overtook them.

[rainewhispers]

Raine didn't really notice someone approaching at first. They sort of got lost in it, it was nice playing again. Nobody was paying them too much mind as far as they were concerned which is frankly.. how they prefer it, ironically considering their status as head of the Bard Coven back home.

Then the hum registered and Raine almost faltered as they opened their eyes and looked up. As they saw that the person humming along was standing a few feet from them, settled against the wall nearby. Their face started to burn and they snapped their attention back to the instrument as they tried to keep themselves focused.

Come on. It's easy. Just- talk to them. You need to get to know people here.

"I.. uh- I don't think I've seen you around town before," They started a bit nervously as their playing grew a bit softer but not stopping yet as they looked back to Rue. "My name is Raine, and you?"

[ruevealing]

Lucky for them, Rue has more than enough experience in leading casual conversation, Raine wouldn't have to flounder for too long.

As Raine addressed Rue and their music began to fall softer, the fey turned their attention back to them, perfect brows arching up slightly at the mention of their name. For all of the conversations and time spent with Eda, it almost felt like Rue was meeting someone they already knew.

"Oh! Eda's friend, Raine? I believe I've heard of you." And from their gentle, careful smile, it was probably all good things. Probably. "No, I am still fairly new, so I imagine you haven't seen me before." Not like this, at least. "My name is Delloso de la Rue, it's a pleasure."

And though Rue doesn't make any attempt to close the distance between them, they do turn, giving Raine the full of their attention, raising a gloved hand towards their instrument.

"You play quite beautifully."

Wildcard

[edalyn]

It took Eda a little while to actually head to the flophouse after texting with Raine about it, but she made her way there eventually. While she very much liked having her own space... if Raine wanted to move she wasn't exactly not going to go with them. Especially with her dislike for rules and curfews, and her unease with governments and authority.

She looked the building over as she approached, noticing it certainly looked nicer than the last time she'd seen it. While it didn't show in her human disguise, her ears pricked up the moment she caught a few notes of the music. The style was familiar, if not the instrument, and she followed the sound to find the figure seated under the windows.

"...A banjo, Rainstorm? That's what you went for?" Sure, there wasn't technically anything wrong with the choice, but she wasn't about to pass up some affectionate teasing.

[rainewhispers]

Eda's voice caught their attention quickly. Though they didn't open their eyes or look up immediately a catty smile crossed their face while they continued to play, resisting the urge to pick up the pace or tempo in a sort of teasing manner.

"Right," Raine scoffed as they looked up finally and raised a brow. "Like you've never picked a more eccentric option when you had the chance?"

[edalyn]

"...Yeah alright, you've got me there." Eda admitted, after a brief pause where she appeared to be trying to think of a comeback. Though that may have just been for effect.

"But that's me. You're supposed to be the cool one last time I checked," she teased, giving them a catty little smirk right back. After a moment she moved to so sit near them, leaning against the wall. She left a bit of space, for the wings that were presumably there but currently invisible.