apocalypsehowcomm | Log - Restoring Bonnie's Flophouse: Part 2

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

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!

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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."

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.

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."

"Yeah..." She worries her lip as she watches him light his own candle and settle. Should she admit this to someone? Maybe. Maybe it wouldn't be welcome, though. "Mr. Jaeger, could I-could I tell you something about Garner? About what happened to him."

She's complicit in a way, isn't she? She'd let him go. She'd let him die without knowing how to fix the problem.

Jaeger looks at Mercy and while there's a twinge of uncertainty in his chest, a low sinking worry in his gut, that's been there for a week now. Since that last battle, since Ava and...everything.

He's determined not to blame himself. Garner made his choices, and Jaeger respected that. Men like them didn't generally get good endings, but Garner had chosen, and it was as good an exit as they could hope for, really. Death with purpose, with a clear mind and heart.

He's not sure what Mercy has to say, but...if it's important, the least he can do is listen. Even with that little twinge of apprehension, that fear that it will tip quiet mourning and regret into something crushing and unbearable.

"What is it?" The words are soft, Jaeger's usual sepultural rasp softened by concern and weariness.

"I knew he was gonna die." Her voice is strained. "In my dreams, I was an avatar, one that could see how many days folk had left to live. Garner's clock was at zero. I tried to-I tried convincing him to stay with me, to not go anywhere he could get hurt. I wanted to try cheating death outta its due."

This is harder than she'd thought it would be. Admitting this sacrilege against Brother Earth. "He convinced me to let him leave, gave me his glaive. I-I let him go. I could've stopped him dying, and I just let him go to it."

Oh. That is a hell of a thing to have weighing on your mind. Some of the tension goes out of Jaegers shoulders, now that he knows what her confession is, and he stands silent for a few seconds, framing a response.

"Sometimes, even knowing doesn't change anything," he says after he's gathered his thoughts. "Sometimes, the path is set, one way or another. Garner made his choices, and I think we *both* would have died if he'd chosen differently."

He sighs, then, because that's a hard admission to make. If he had done more, would things have happened differently? He would always wonder, at least a little.

Gently, he adds, "This place does everything it can to mess with your head. To make you question yourself and your choices. It's another form of fear, a quieter one but still fear. I won't say to ignore it, because you shouldn't, but recognize it for what it is."

Maybe that's the most important thing to remember. Garner hadn't died in vain. He'd saved another life. "Aye..." Her agreement is more reluctant than she wants it to be. "I'm glad he saved you, Mr. Jaeger. And maybe... maybe dying here sends folk back home? Their spirits, at least." It's a nice thought.

"I been thinking, though, 'bout something he said to me at the end, 'bout a lot of things." She worries her lip again. "I've been saying I'm a sister of the Spring Tide since I got here, but it's never sat right in my head. I like the healing it stands for, and the folk I've met for the Spring Tide are nice. I don't know much about it beyond it being a thing for healing, though. I never got to start my training as a cleric.

"Do you think... Garner's god was Pelor, the Dawnfather. He's a god for them seeking redemption. Seems a fair few could use that more than a god for healing when we got doctors and all the fancy medicines. Garner told me... he said to 'deliver the light of the Dawnfather where darkness dwells, with kindness, compassion, and mercy.' I think-I think he was asking me to carry on the Dawnfather's legacy here. I think I might want to."

"I don't know a lot about...life after. I know it exists, but I think there's a lot more to it than my own experience."

It had been peaceful enough, in the dark. Underground, but with a feeling of shelter. He didn't remember much more than that, because then there had been...her, and her promises. The flutter of wings in the dark, the soft chime of chains and laughter.

And then he had woken up to all the pains of his mortal self, along with purpose. Power. Transformation through trials and suffering, the fallen hero's journey. But that was him, his own calling. He could only speak of that experience, and it wasn't quite fitting here.

"I think that's a good thing to believe. Especially if you have faith in something like that, a thing of peace and clarity." He gives her the smallest smile.

"There's a lot of ways for someone to heal others. Not just the body, but what's inside us, too. Things that get tired and broken along the way. If there's something about this Dawnfather that calls to you? Then it sounds like it's worth exploring. I don't know if it was what Garner meant, but I think *any* good deeds and kindness he inspired, he would appreciate."

"I think I can feel him calling." She nods to that. But then, hadn't she felt the Spring Tide calling? Doesn't she still feel Brother Earth calling? And maybe something that isn't Brother Earth, but pretends at being him. Mercy touches her cheek where there are what look like old burn scars. They hadn't been there until the dreams, until she and Aelwyn had sealed each others' fates.

"Are you tired and broken, Jaeger? Is there... would you be interested in anything like that? Finding peace with a god from a whole other world?"

Faith is a complicated, and very personal and subjective thing. It seems to be a universal truth, and Jaeger can only imagine that others have those voices in *their* heads, too. Some shouting, some only whispering like the murmurs heard in that space between sleep and waking.

Some of them are awful things, he knows that. But others are just what they are, for better or worse. And he's sure somewhere, there are those that *are* kindness and light and peace. He's got too much experience to doubt that.

Just...maybe not for him. He can't quite gather himself to more than a weary smile and shake of his head.

"I don't know if faith is something for men like me. But I think believing in something bright and kind...I think that's good, that's fine. We probably need more of that in the world, and I'm happy to support it. Defend it."

He pauses, then gives Mercy a small, but more honest smile.

"In my world, Powers are shaped by those that believe in them. You have a good heart, Mercy. And I think you can do a lot of great things with that, whatever you choose to believe in as your guide."

A good heart hasn't been enough to protect those she loves or even some strangers. Still, wallowing in despair has never been one of her particular talents. Colm was always more the miserable, moaning git between them. Mercy closes her eyes and just takes a breath, letting it out in a big sigh.

"Do the best you can with what you got when you got it. That's what Granny always says. There's gonna be times you ain't got so much, so you can't do near as much as you want to. It's just-just hard to remember that. To remind yourself you can't... that there's more trouble out there and right in front of you than you can manage."

The smile she returns to him is genuine, as well, one that shows the grief she's feeling at the edges. "I'm gonna worship the Dawnfather as best I can without really- without knowing the traditional ways. I'm hoping he'll look kind on the effort and help drive away the dark we been up against this past year. I reckon his faith is for anyone who wants or needs it. You just let me know if you ever change your mind, sir."

"I don't think anyone deals well with helplessness," he muses quietly. "Doing something, anything, makes it better. And sometimes, the small things matter more than we realize, especially when the pressure has been going on so long, we forget to take care of those little things." Just being able to stop and rest for a little whole, to focus on things besides...well, the things that consume you.

"I had a vision of my life back home, a little while ago. It was like I lived those months, all in one flash. The memories are there like it was real, and I think that's one of the things that really struck me. I was injured and forced to take a step away from what was driving me, and I think...it was good for me. To be able to look after others, to do my mission in a different, gentler way. And to take some time for myself, as well...to heal, both physically and mentally."

He pauses, rubbing his scarred wrist absently. "It felt like I couldn't do enough, at first, but then i realized that it *was* something important. That it changed the lives of the people I met, and gave them comfort when they needed it most. When no one else might have been there to help."

He chuckles faintly, then, barely more than a breath of laughter. He doesn't usually ramble like this, and it's strange being so honest. He hasn't talked much about his experience with the Visionary, but he's certainly thought about it a lot.

"I think you've got a good start, and you're building your faith on kindness and compassion. Maybe you'll make some new traditions, find new ways to express this, and I think that's okay. I...don't think he'd mind."

The last, he adds thoughtfully: "And let me know if there's anything I can do to help. I might not be the most devout, but on the other hand, I think there's room for a lot of things in the world, and if there's awful things, then there should be *better* things as well."

She listens to the man, her brown eyes fixed on him with an earnest intensity. She wants to believe what he's saying is true. And hasn't it been true for her in the past? A great loss can bring a community closer if people step up to make the effort. If they reach out instead of withdrawing. The project on the flophouse is done, but that doesn't mean she's finished with helping. There's still... so much more to do.

"Thank you, Mr. Jaeger. That's... you got a good melon sitting between your shoulders. And a fine mouth for talking." She takes a deep breath. "Didn't realize you was a seer, though. Always wondered what that'd be like. We got them back home."

Jaeger glances around, to make sure they aren't overheard, before he says, "It wasnt one of my own visions, it was..." He pauses: this is hard to admit. "I went to the Visionary for their help. When i was first brought to this world, I was about to die, and it finally got to be too much...not knowing if I survived or not. So I asked. Which might have been foolish of me, I don't know." He's not going to dwell on it, though, or the gap of a lost memory that he can feel like a missing tooth.

"But it gave me comfort, and insight, so I don't regret it." He reaches up to rub his brow, running his hand over his face before letting it drop again. "And...thank you. I haven't always been the best at giving advice, but I've learned a few lessons in my time. Hopefully, that's worth something, especially if it comforts someone else and spares them some pain."

She's quiet a long moment. "I have heard them speak some of their abilities while we been working here. It's... did they take something from you for them memories? Good as they are, I heard the price is a steep one."

Prying at that spot is a tangible pain, the loss of something important. And he *remembers* the feel of it leaving him, torn from his mind and leaving something raw and empty in its place. Something he once valued is simply gone.

"They did. I took the risk because it was something I needed to know, but it was a hard experience. Both in the taking, and in accepting this...new knowledge, this new piece of my life." It had been worth it, but weren't most Devil's Deals that way? A small sacrifice for a greater gain. Just a little bit of a trade.

He sighs. "I don't know that I'd do it again. And I'm not sure what the *Visionary's* price for such things is. They seemed distressed afterward, and we've never spoken of it since."

"Well... hurting you? That's how they feed, right? Reckon that'd make me feel right awful, too." Mercy sighs. "It's so hard for folks with powers here. I wish there was more I could do. Offering myself up for terrorizing ain't a sensible thing, though, and there's plenty of bad folk we face up against, that seems like the best way for them to fill their bellies, best they can."

A pause. "Not that I'd condone anyone using their powers, sir. Not as far as ADI's concerned."

Jaeger nods, remembering the Visionary's brief look of total satiation before the regret set in. It still brings him a chill, and yet he still can't bring himself to regret it. It was a truth he needed to know, and it may not have been worth the price but there was no taking it back now.

Mercy's hasty words bring a brittle chuckle from the big man, and he shakes his head.

"Sometimes, as ugly as it might be, I think there's a necessity. But it's a very difficult balancing act. We should never be comfortable with causing pain, but at the sane time...we're in a situation where we're often badly outmatched. Necessity can be cruel at times. We make choices hoping to do the most good, or failing that, the least harm."

"Aye. Best we can hope for here." Mercy breathes in deep, holds it for a few seconds, and lets that out in a deep sigh before moving to stand up. "Well, can't spend all day here. Best I get back to my chores. Cleaning this place up ain't an end, just a beginning. Thanks for helping out with all of it, Jaeger... and for stopping in to remember."

Jaeger nods gravely. "You've done a lot here, and continue to...you should be proud."

A twitch of a smile, though he can't quite bring himself to commit to a full one. "And I'm glad to be able to help. I think it's good to be able to do something like this, to see results and know you've accomplished something good. It's reassuring when so much else is uncertain. Small victories."

But that's enough deep thinking for now. He's stopped to mourn a little, and now...well, he's still not sure but he'll do his best to figure it out.

"I should go, too, but if there's anything more I can do, please let me know."

She offers him a tired smile. "'Course. I'll keep you in mind, sir." And off she goes to see about sorting her new room a little more. She's still making decisions about how to arrange the little garden of plants she'd brought with her. It's less space and no balcony, but she thinks she can still make it work. And it's something to think of apart from dead friends.

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

In Memoriam

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